


You Stole My Heart

by fallingyoonjin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thieves, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Pickpockets, stealing from each other as a sign of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 11:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30121803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingyoonjin/pseuds/fallingyoonjin
Summary: “Um, hello?” he calls out before walking further. He thought they’d meet at a bar or maybe even the thief’s apartment, but this is just… shady. “Ya here? I want my phone back.”“You mean this?”Atsumu whirls around, clutching Osamu's phone to his chest in surprise. In front of him, twenty feet away, stands a man his age, all broad shoulders and curly hair. Holding his phone in his hand, a smirk on his face. “Beginner’s mistake, leaving your phone in your back pocket.”
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 132





	You Stole My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> yikes i have my final exam on literature tomorrow so i wrote this instead!! lol

It’s a good day for Atsumu. It’s lunch time, which means the streets are crowded, full of busy, distracted men and women in expensive suits and briefcases bumping into each other. No one notices a young man passing them by, a quick hand brushing their arm, leaving behind a bare wrist. Sometimes his hand slips into a pocket or a handbag, looking for a phone or a wallet.

By the time they notice something missing, maybe at a restaurant ready to pay for their food only to find their back pocket empty, or almost home about to text their girlfriend with a phone they no longer possess, Atsumu is long gone, counting his money.

Osamu doesn’t approve, because of course he doesn’t. But he’s also too busy working to chase Atsumu down the street every day so he has free reign to do as he pleases.

He glances at his bag, a nice tote bag an ex-girlfriend once gifted him, girly little unicorns painted on the white fabric. Osamu likes to make fun of him for it, but joke’s on him, because it’s the perfect bag to slip his stolen watches and wallets in without raising suspicion.

He should probably call it a day soon, his bag starting to weigh a bit too much. He tries to make a point of not stealing too much in one day, just to have less evidence on him if he hypothetically were to get caught. He won’t because he’s that good. But if he were.

One more, he tells himself. One more wallet and he’s going home.

He keeps his hands in his pockets, walks with his head held high. That’s the number one error people make when stealing; they think slouching with their head bowed down, a hood hiding their face, is going to keep them anonymous. Atsumu scoffs internally. It just makes them more suspicious.

He is glad for the sun though, his round sunglasses hiding his wandering eyes as he scopes out his next and last victim of the day. In his search, he fails to notice someone right in front of him whose head is down, glued to their phone. Atsumu manages to dodge just in time, only their shoulders knocking together.

He shouldn’t. He doesn’t know who this person is, didn’t even have time to see their face. He makes a point of only stealing from planned targets, partly to minimize risk and partly to make sure he’s not robbing a poor college student. He shouldn’t.

His fingers work faster than his brain, slipping into a coat pocket and feeling for the familiar shape of a wallet, before pulling out swiftly, dropping the item to his own bag. It happens in a second, if even that, and then they’re separated again, like nothing ever happened.

Shit. Atsumu turns around to try and catch a glance of whoever he just pickpocketed. He sees nothing but hundreds of the same gray suit jackets every businessman and lawyer wears on their way to get a bento from a restaurant on their lunch break. No sign of whoever he bumped into.

Turning back around, Atsumu shakes his head. Whatever. He can look at the wallet later, figure out from the ID what age the owner is and if he looks like someone who can’t really afford their wallet stolen. Atsumu has morals, however wonky they might be. He knows what struggling to get one warm meal a day feels like, he’s not about to be the reason that’s happening to anyone else.

“’Samu! I’m home!” he hollers and slams the door close behind him. His brother answers something from the kitchen, one of his rare days off. Usually Atsumu comes home to a dark, silent apartment, Osamu slaving away in a kitchen somewhere in the city.

Atsumu has it easy, considering.

“Are ya makin’ food?” he asks, swinging his bag on the counter and pulling up a bar stool with his ankle, sitting down.

Osamu gives him a look over his shoulder, lifting a spatula he’s using to stir spaghetti. “What do ya think?”

He notices the bag on the counter and his expression changes. It’s not disapproving, not quite, but it is pinched. Osamu has told him multiple times he doesn’t like his brother being a criminal, so he seems to decide against repeating himself again. “What did ya get this time? Enough to pay for our new couch, I hope.”

Atsumu hums and dumps the bag’s contents on the counter, wallets and watches and a few bracelets rolling out. Osamu frowns at the items and turns back to the food. “That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah,” Atsumu agrees. “That’s the point.”

He starts organizing his loot, sliding the watches to one group and the wallets to another. A brown, tattered wallet sticks out amongst the sleek ones and Atsumu hesitates. He picks it up, looks inside.

“What?” he mumbles, turns it upside down and shakes. Osamu turns off the stove and comes closer to lean over the counter. “What is it?”

Atsumu frowns and shows the wallet. “There’s nothin’ here. No ID, no money, no gift cards, nothin’. It’s empty.”

Osamu squints. “That’s weird. Isn’t that what ya do with yer own wallet?”

Atsumu freezes. He slowly lowers his hands and pats his pant pockets. Oh no. He closes his eyes as he lets out a soft sigh. “Goddammit. That fuckin’ piece of shit mother _fucker_.”

Osamu blinks at him owlishly. “Well, what’s up with ya now? Thought ya’d be happy with all this stuff.”

“Yeah, I just got robbed,” Atsumu snaps. “So no, I’m not that happy, no.”

“Ya got what?” Osamu exclaims in surprise, drawing up to his full height. “Who the fuck stole from ya?”

Atsumu slaps the empty wallet in front of him. “That motherfucker. Took my fuckin’ phone, I swear to God.”

Osamu opens his mouth before closing it again. “Ya stole from a person who stole from ya? How does that work?”

“I stole from them, and they noticed and stole from me back,” Atsumu sighs, patting his pockets just to make sure. “Figures that the one person I decide to target spontaneously turns out to be a pickpocket too. Fuck.”

“They took yer phone? Anythin’ else?”

“I didn’t have anythin’ else on me,” Atsumu answers. He didn’t even _feel_ his phone being grabbed. How good is that thief? “Osamu, ya have yer phone close?”

His brother pulls out his own phone from his back pocket and offers it. “Here. What are ya gonna do?”

Atsumu pulls up Osamu’s text messages with himself and taps out a message. “Askin’ for my fuckin’ phone back.”

**_‘Samu_ **

_bro????_

_did you have to steal my phone, was it rly necessary lol_

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_Who is this?_

**_‘Samu_ **

_????_

_who do u think lmao_

_i’m sorry i stole your wallet that’s empty btw so thanks for that_

_but i don’t think it’s fair u took my phone ://_

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_How is it not fair? You take something of mine, I take something of yours._

**_‘Samu_ **

_ok but consider this:_

_i’m sensitive_

_ok jk don’t ignore me i just want my phone back_

_it has all my nudes_

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_You want your phone, meet me tomorrow at 9._

_I’ll send you the location._

**_‘Samu_ **

_ok i’ll be there_

_did u look at my gallery_

Atsumu gets no response, so he closes Osamu’s phone with a snicker and tosses it on the counter. He leans back and cracks his back with a big yawn. “I’m either gettin’ my phone back tomorrow or murdered. Wanna place bets?”

Osamu frowns at him, picking up his phone and opening to the conversation. “Do ya even know what this person looks like?”

“I don’t. Didn’t get a good look. They were close to my size though, so I doubt I’ll get stabbed or anythin’.”

“Don’t think it works like that,” Osamu says dubiously. “Yer just going to a location with a stranger just like that? Should I come with?”

Atsumu coos and reaches over to pinch his brother’s cheek. “Yer adorable, ‘Samu. Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

Osamu hesitates, but doesn’t smack Atsumu’s hand off. “If ya say so…”

“Sure do!” Atsumu says brightly. “Now, how about that spaghetti?”

..

Squinting at his – Osamu’s – phone, Atsumu stops in front of an alleyway between two buildings, close to the street he worked yesterday. He lifts his eyes from Google Maps and looks around. There’s no one here.

“Um, hello?” he calls out before walking further. He thought they’d meet at a bar or maybe even the thief’s apartment, but this is just… shady. “Ya here? I want my phone back.”

“You mean this?”

Atsumu whirls around, clutching the phone to his chest in surprise. In front of him, twenty feet away, stands a man his age, all broad shoulders and curly hair. Holding his phone in his hand, a smirk on his face. “Beginner’s mistake, leaving your phone in your back pocket.”

Atsumu lunges forward, tries to catch his phone. The man ends up holding him back with a palm against his chest, stepping back to keep his balance. “Calm down, damn. I’ll give it to you.”

“Why can’t ya just give it to me now?” Atsumu frowns and lifts himself on his tippytoes to reach. It doesn’t work. The man just holds his phone higher and laughs.

“I want my wallet back first.”

Atsumu pauses. “Switch at the same time?”

The man rolls his eyes and pushes Atsumu back lightly. “You don’t trust me?”

“Uh, no shit I don’t trust ya,” Atsumu scoffs playfully. “Ya stole my phone.”

“After you stole my wallet,” the guy corrects and holds out his hand expectantly. “That’s why I use decoys. Give it?”

Atsumu grumbles and reaches to his pocket to pull out the empty wallet. He slaps it into the awaiting hand and lifts an eyebrow. “There. My phone?”

The guy offers his phone and Atsumu snatches it out of his hands with a triumphant yell. “Finally! Hey, did my ma call ya? Or any of my friends?”

“You got some texts, yeah. Not from your mom, though,” the guy lifts an eyebrow. “A group chat called ‘Mr. Clean railed me in my dream yesterday’ with… fist emojis. Interesting choice.”

“Ah,” Atsumu chuckles fondly and pockets his phone. “Bokuto changed it again. Don’t think his boyfriend is too happy about that.”

Now that he has his phone back safe and sound, he takes the time to really look at the thief who stole it. And feels his breath catch in his throat. Jesus fuck, how did he not notice how gorgeous this man is? He’s tall, taller than Atsumu, his eyes are basically black, matching the curly hair and the moles on top of his eyebrow. That has a hoop on it.

Atsumu straightens and pushes back his own bleached hair. “So… What’s yer name?”

The guy huffs out an amused laugh and turns to walk away. “Sakusa. Not that you’ll ever need it. Make sure to put a password on your phone.”

Atsumu stifles a giggle and takes out a phone from his other pocket. It’s not his own. “Maybe ya should do the same, Sakusa.”

Sakusa turns around with a confused expression that turns into exasperation once he sees his phone in Atsumu’s hand. He still pats his clothes for confirmation. “I really should have known. You gonna give it back?”

“Yep,” Atsumu answers, tapping his number on Sakusa’s contacts and shooting himself a message. “Prepare yerself, I’m an active texter.”

He tosses the phone to Sakusa, who catches it easily with a slight frown. “Oh no. What did you do?”

“You’ll see,” Atsumu winks at him. “Ya shouldn’t leave yer phone on yer back pocket. Beginner’s mistake.”

He walks past Sakusa, who’s looking at him with something suspiciously close to reluctant amusement and pats him on the shoulder. “See ya.”

..

Atsumu really has no self-control whatsoever. He was planning on making Sakusa wait for a couple of days before texting him. He lasts six hours.

He half-expects Sakusa to ignore him or block him, especially when he starts sending memes at three in the morning, but to his surprise, he gets responses. Sarcastic, mean responses, but responses all the same.

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_sakusa!!!!!!_

**_Sakusa_ **

_What the fuck do you want now._

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_what’s your first name_

_pls tell me i don’t like sakusa_

**_Sakusa_ **

_Should_

_Should I be offended?_

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_yes_

_anyway what is it_

**_Sakusa_ **

_Kiyoomi._

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_oh shoot rly_

_right so i have a new name for you_

**_Sakusa_ **

_Oh God._

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_omi_

_omi-omi_

_which one do you like better_

**_Sakusa_ **

_No._

_Neither._

_Do not call me that._

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_so both?_

_i can work with that_

**_Sakusa_ **

_Delete my number, Atsumu._

_I’m not kidding delete it._

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_lmfao no_

_u delete it_

**_Sakusa_ **

_…_

_So anyway_

**_‘Tsumu_ **

_LMAOOO i fkn knew it_

..

Here’s the thing: Atsumu doesn’t know where Sakusa lives. He tried googling his name to see if anything popped up, but not so surprisingly nothing came up. Sakusa obviously knows how to keep a low profile. It’s a great trait for a thief to have.

Except Atsumu really wants to see Sakusa again and he doesn’t want to seem desperate by _asking_ him, that’s just embarrassing. So he’s been prowling around the area where both of their meetings occurred, because it makes sense for Sakusa to be there, right?

So far he hasn’t seen even a glimpse of the brunet and he’s been here for hours.

He groans internally and shakes his head. Might as well use the time usefully if he’s already here. He keeps walking, trying to find a good target. His eyes zero on a man, in a boring suit and tie like everyone else, but what catches Atsumu’s eye is the sparkling watch on his wrist. His eyes widen. That’s a George Daniels, no doubt about it.

Excitement bubbles up in Atsumu’s chest at the sight. He’s going to sell that with a _high_ price.

He veers to the other side of the street as casually as he can, trying to make his and his target’s paths cross. The man is on the phone, looking distracted. Perfect.

Just as their arms brush when they pass each other and Atsumu is already unclasping the watch with nimble fingers, the crowd shifts just enough for someone to bump into Atsumu. He collides into his target with a surprised grunt.

“Wh- Hey! What are you doing?”

Atsumu looks up and meets the scandalized eyes of the businessman, phone lowered from his ear. He immediately lets go of the man’s wrist, flashing a sheepish grin.

“Sorry! An accident,” he tells him and immediately books it.

“Where are you- My watch! Hey!”

Atsumu shoves the beautiful, expensive watch in his bag and keeps running. He looks back only to find the man running after him, yelling out for him to come back.

“Oh shit,” he exclaims and runs faster. He has to zigzag on the crowded street, dodging curious people as he keeps throwing glances behind him to see if he’s still followed. He can’t hear the man anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not there.

“Atsumu?”

He straightens his neck to see Sakusa in front of him, looking confused. Atsumu can’t help but notice the similar bag he has on his shoulder, apparently in the middle of working just like him.

“Omi!” he yelps and grabs his wrist, tugging him along. “Nice to see ya here, but we have to go.”

“What? Why are you running and why are you taking me with you?” Sakusa protests, but doesn’t pull off, just matches his pace to Atsumu’s.

Atsumu looks back at him with a breathless grin. “We’re partners in crime now, Omi. If I go down, ya go down with me.”

They keep running, even though Atsumu is pretty sure they’re not even getting chased anymore. Sakusa tugs on his arm at one point and nods towards a nondescript building on their right. “That’s my apartment.”

They stop for Sakusa to fish out his keys, throwing furtive glances to where they came from. No frantic businessman in sight. Sighing in relief, Atsumu follows Sakusa inside. “We’re takin’ the elevator, I’m not walkin’ any more than I have to.”

They’re both sweaty and panting, holding tightly onto their bags. Sakusa gives him a look. “My apartment is on the second floor.”

“Still,” Atsumu insists. “My legs feel like jelly.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, pressing a button to open the elevator doors. “Fine. I thought you’d be in better condition than this, considering.”

“Considering what?” Atsumu grins teasingly. “My amazing, toned legs or my beautiful arms?”

Sakusa gives him a disgusted look. “No, you’re not that hot. You just look like someone who works out.”

“Yeah, because of my muscles,” Atsumu reiterates smugly. “And I do work out, just don’t like runnin’.”

“That’s weird.”

“No, it’s not. Let me guess, yer one of those people who go on 5am runs every morning,” Atsumu retorts.

He gets a withering look in return. “And what if I am?”

“Oh,” Atsumu frowns. “Well you’re not getting’ me with ya.”

“I never asked you to come,” Sakusa informs him dryly. The elevator dings and the doors open. “I’m starting to regret even letting you in my home.”

Atsumu brightens. “Right! My first time in yer apartment. It’s a big milestone, I think.”

“Milestone for what? We’re not even friends,” Sakusa frowns at him and opens the door, letting Atsumu in first.

“Mm, aren’t we though? I send ya memes.”

“Bad ones.”

Atsumu gasps, offended. “They’re not! Now yer just bein’ mean.”

“Maybe,” Sakusa hums and lifts his bag off his shoulder. “Now, do you care to tell me why we were running like madmen on the street?”

Atsumu flops down onto the couch, taking up half the space. “I stole a George Daniels and got caught.”

“A George- are you serious?” Sakusa comes to the couch, pushing Atsumu’s feet off and sitting down. “Show me.”

Atsumu rummages through his loot and pulls out the watch. He offers it to Sakusa, who cradles it with gentle hands. “It’s not a fake, right?”

Sakusa turns it in his hands carefully, peering at it from all angles. He shakes his head, offering it back to Atsumu. “It’s real. Damn, that’s an expensive one too. You’re going to get a good price.”

“Nice. I’m payin’ back my student loans with this.”

Sakusa settles on the couch more comfortably. “You’re in university?”

“Yeah, gettin’ a degree in Sport Management. A lot of it is online, so I have time to do this better.”

“A bit odd, for you to get a degree when you could just keep stealing as a living,” Sakusa remarks.

“I mean,” Atsumu shrugs. “I started pickpocketin’ specifically because I couldn’t afford both rent and school. Don’t see a reason to drop out just ‘cause I ended up bein’ good at it’. And in any case, I like my degree. It’s what I wanna do in the future.”

Sakusa nods slowly. “I see.”

“What about ya? How old even are ya?”

“I’m twenty-three, no degree. University just isn’t for me,” he sighs. “I do work part-time in a record store but stealing gives me more than enough money. I’m good at, apparently.”

“Yeah you are,” Atsumu smiles, remembering their first meeting. “I was literally focused on ya and didn’t even notice ya takin’ my phone. That’s some skill.”

Sakusa snorts and picks at the frayed denim on his knee. Atsumu eyes zero on the rings on his fingers. “I felt you immediately. You’re too heavy-handed.”

“No one else has noticed. It’s just ‘cause ya know what to look for in a thief,” Atsumu waves it off.

Sakusa hums. “Maybe.”

An idea suddenly pops into Atsumu’s head and he jolts up with a gasp. Sakusa watches him with a wary suspicion. “Whatever you’re about to say-“

“Omi! We should team up!”

..

Sakusa had a lot to say about that, but in the end Atsumu managed to convince him. One would distract the target, the other would steal. Maybe not any easier or quicker than if they did it solo, but Atsumu thinks it’s more fun this way.

On their first attempt, Atsumu pretended to ask a woman for directions while Sakusa swiped her purse and slipped away unnoticed. The purse ended up containing not much other than makeup and tissues, but there was a pair of earrings there, at least.

They kept doing it, getting better and better at working together in the following weeks. They split every loot in half, both free to do what they want with their own half.

There is one problem here, and that’s Atsumu’s growing crush on his partner. The more they text or the spend time together, the bigger the butterflies in Atsumu’s stomach get. He’s also gotten in the habit of stealing from Sakusa.

He doesn’t do it to sell whatever he steals, it just happened. He kept noticing Sakusa’s rings and just had to swipe them. So he had offered a glass of water to him and slipped a ring off his finger while passing the glass to him.

Next he took a coin from Sakusa’s pocket under the guise of patting him on the leg. And then he stole one of those cute hairpins from Sakusa’s head while pretending to ruffle his hair. Sakusa never says anything, just gives him a weird look and dodges his touches to the best of his ability, so Atsumu assumes he hasn’t noticed.

He keeps his growing collection of souvenirs in his room, hidden in a small box. He doesn’t ever steal anything of worth, so he doesn’t think Sakusa would mind even if he knew.

He’s eyeing Sakusa’s lip ring, trying to figure out if it would be possible to somehow remove it without Sakusa noticing when he knocks his head against Atsumu’s knee lightly. “You’re not even watching the movie.”

Sakusa’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, Atsumu’s legs next to him. Atsumu realizes he hasn’t paid attention to the action movie for the last fifteen minutes, too busy admiring Sakusa’s high cheekbones and wavy hair.

“You don’t like the movie?” Sakusa glances up at him. “You’re the one that chose it, if I may remind you.”

Atsumu shakes his head. Should he tell him? “Nah, I do like it. I’m just distracted.”

“Share with the class, go on.”

Okay. He’s going to tell him. “Omi, I really like ya.”

He watches Sakusa carefully, sees the moment he freezes. “What?”

“I like ya,” he repeats. “Like like ya. In a crush way. In a-“

“Yeah, I know what it means, thanks,” Sakusa interrupts and turns to look at him coolly. “You don’t like me.”

Atsumu pauses. “Huh? I do though.”

“Atsumu.” Sakusa looks at him seriously. “You don’t.”

Atsumu frowns in confusion and sits up from his slouch. “How can ya tell me how _I_ feel? Ya don’t know what I think.”

“I don’t need to know,” Sakusa looks frustrated. “You- you’re mistaken. You’re confusing friendship and… and _love_ together. You’ll realize soon enough you don’t like me.”

“Why the fuck are ya so against me likin’ ya? If ya don’t like me back, that’s fine, but don’t decide for me what I should feel.”

Atsumu drops down to sit next to Sakusa, but he stands up and moves away, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not trying to insult you here, Atsumu, I just don’t think you know what you’re feeling for me.”

Atsumu scoffs, even as despair swirls deep in his stomach. This was not how he imagined his confession going. “Oh, ‘cause I’m stupid? Is that it?”

Sakusa whirls to face him with an exasperated sigh. “Obviously not! But-“

“But what!” Atsumu exclaims, spreading his arms. “We can just forget about this entire thing if ya want, I’m not tryin’ to make ya uncomfortable, but don’t be condescending. Please.”

They settle in tense silence as they stare at each other. Sakusa sighs wearily. “You should probably leave. In a week you’ll realize I’m right.”

Atsumu stands up with a heavy heart. “Fine. I’m leavin’, but ya best believe I’ll be on yer doorstop in a week and nothing will have changed.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes and motions for the door. “Go on. When you change your mind, text me.”

“I won’t,” Atsumu tells him as he passes him. Sakusa makes a face and closes the door behind him.

Atsumu stares at the golden numbers on the door with incredulity. What an asshole. Unfortunately, an asshole he happens to like.

“Am I still allowed to send ya memes?” he calls out only for silence to answer him.

..

“He’s so… ugh. He’s so hot,” Atsumu moans and buries his face in his arms. Osamu watches him with wry amusement.

“So I’ve heard. Twenty times already.”

Atsumu shakes his head and frowns down at the table inches away from his face. “Yeah, but he’s like the hottest person ever. He has piercings, ‘Samu, _piercings_.”

Osamu takes a swig of his beer. It’s his first of the night, and he’s sober. Unlike Atsumu. “Yes, ya showed me a picture. Longish hair, piercings, dark eyes, deep voice and a great body. He’s yer type if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Right?” Atsumu agrees readily. “And he has a nice sense of humor. He’s sarcastic and sends me back history memes. They’re really funny even if I don’t always get them.”

Osamu hums. “It’s been a week. Yer gonna go see him?”

“Yes. He’s so stupid to think I lied to him or somethin’. I like him a lot.”

“Is being drunk the best thing for that?”

Atsumu lifts his head and groans when his world tilts. “I’m g’na take advantage of his soft spot for me and get sympathy points. Pretty clever, huh?”

Osamu kisses his teeth dubiously. “Are ya… are ya sure he has a soft spot for ya? I mean he kicked ya out of his house after ya confessed.”

“Oh. I mean, yeah. That happened. But he also spends time with me and cooks for me. Sometimes he asks how school is goin’.”

“Mm,” Osamu nods and takes a sip of beer. “I see.”

“He’s so sweet, ‘Samu. I’ll introduce y’all someday,” Atsumu promises.

“I don’t know how to feel about the fact ya made friends with another thief, but okay. I’ll give him a chance, granted he even lets ya in tonight.”

“He will,” Atsumu dismisses with confidence. He’s had a week to think about whatever their little spat was and he’s come to the conclusion that Sakusa isn’t trying to be mean. He obviously has some unaddressed issues, and Atsumu plans on acting the therapist tonight.

He stumbles his way to Sakusa’s apartment door after begging a random tenant into opening the building door for him. He pounds his fist on the wood.

“Omiii, open up!”

He hears rustling on the other side, before the lock clicks and the door creaks open. Sakusa’s disbelieving face peeks out. “Atsumu? Are you kidding me?”

Atsumu smiles at him drunkenly. “Hi, Omi. It’s been a week.”

“You-“ Sakusa pauses and inhales deeply. “Are you drunk?”

“Ya. Sorry,” Atsumu giggles and stumbles forward, right into Sakusa’s chest. He catches him instinctively, arms wrapping around Atsumu’s waist. “Let’s go inside, Omi?”

Sakusa looks down at him for a moment, before blowing out air through his nose and maneuvering them both inside. He pushes the door close with his foot. “You’re so fucking difficult, you know that, Atsumu?”

“But like… in a good way?” Atsumu prompts hopefully, hanging onto Sakusa’s shoulders as he walks them to the couch.

Sakusa huffs and pushes him down on the couch. “I’m still asking myself that. Come on, take your shoes off.”

Atsumu wiggles his legs while Sakusa pulls his Vans off. “So.”

Sakusa looks at him, still squatting next to Atsumu’s legs, hands resting on Atsumu’s ankles. “So.”

“Y’know, I think ya have trust issues, Omi,” Atsumu starts suddenly and watches Sakusa’s eyes avert. “And I’d like for ya to explain yer point of view to me instead of shuttin’ me out.”

After a quiet moment, Sakusa sighs and falls back on his ass, resting his forearms on his bent knees. “Yeah. I guess you’re not far from the truth.”

Atsumu leans forward a bit before nausea hits him and he has to fall back. “Explain.”

Sakusa sighs again. “I… I don’t necessarily have the best dating history. I won’t go into detail, but many of my exes left me for someone else.”

Atsumu gasps silently, mouth dropping open in shock. “But yer… yer like the perfect person. I like ya so much, Omi.”

Sakusa smiles wryly. “Thanks, Atsumu. I appreciate it, but if we’re going to look at it correctly, you’re the perfect person here.”

“Um,” Atsumu squints. His drunken brain is trying to make sense of whatever Sakusa is telling him. “What does that mean?”

Sakusa chuckles softly, reaching up to pull on his earring in an almost nervous move. “It means that you’re you. You’re kind, funny, beautiful, clever. I couldn’t…”

He frowns, pausing momentarily. “I couldn’t give you what you deserve. You’d get tired, leave me when you realize it.”

Atsumu gapes at him. “Ya… ya like me back?”

“Is that all you got from that?”

“No, but what ya just said is so fucking stupid I’m ignorin’ it. Are ya sayin’ ya like me?”

Sakusa meets his eyes, nods. “Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

A big smile splits Atsumu’s face and he propels himself forward for the second time to plop onto Sakusa. They fall back, legs tangled together. Sakusa grunts when his spine cracks and Atsumu buries his face in his neck. “Omi.”

“What?”

“Yer amazing. And hot and funny and caring and yer fingers are very talented. I won’t get tired of ya even if ya ever get tired of me.”

He lets Sakusa ingest that, instead focuses on their chests rising and falling in sync, the quick heartbeat under his. When Sakusa speaks again, his voice is choked.

“Are you sure?”

“Insanely sure. One hundred percent. So sure I’ve never been so sure of anythin’.”

“Say that again tomorrow when you’re sober,” Sakusa breathes and tangles his fingers in Atsumu’s hair.

Atsumu turns his head, presses his cheek against Sakusa’s shoulder. “Yer lettin’ me stay over?”

“Apparently,” he chuckles. “You’d probably die if I let you out now in this state.”

Atsumu hums and nuzzles closer. “Maybe. Are we datin’?”

“I’ll ask you out tomorrow,” Sakusa says quietly. “I want you sober.”

“Okay.”

..

The next morning, Atsumu wakes up groggy with a pounding headache. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m never drinkin’ again.”

“Atsumu.”

“Huh?” He opens one eye only to come face to face with Sakusa. They’re laying in bed, facing each other, Atsumu’s leg hiked over Sakusa’s hip. They’re close, and Atsumu’s face flushes when he remembers yesterday. “Wow. What a sight to wake up to.”

“You remember?” Sakusa asks him, shifting to get into a better position. He looks wary, like Atsumu would change his mind just because he’s no longer drunk.

“Every bit,” Atsumu responds and smiles sleepily. “The answer is still yes, by the way.”

Sakusa’s face relaxes, a tiny smile peeking out. “I haven’t even asked you yet.”

“So ask.”

Sakusa lifts his knuckles to Atsumu’s cheek, stroking his temple with a soft thumb. Atsumu closes his eyes with a pleased hum. “Will you go out with me?”

Atsumu opens his eyes again and lifts a hand to lightly grip Sakusa’s on his face. “Yes. Took ya long enough to ask.”

They smile to each other, probably looking stupid if anyone were to see them, but Atsumu doesn’t even care. He closes the small distance between them and presses their lips together.

It’s a gentle kiss, but perfect all the same. Sakusa smiles into it, making Atsumu pull back slightly. “What is it?”

Sakusa steals a short kiss. “Are you going to give me back my things? I’m starting to miss that ring.”

Atsumu flushes and grins sheepishly. “Ya knew?”

Sakusa nods. “You’re still heavy-handed. Figured I’d let you have your fun.”

“Shit, yer an angel, Omi,” Atsumu breathes out and leans in for another kiss. “Yer not gettin’ them back though.”

(That’s where they stay for the entire morning, tangled in each other, stealing kisses before Sakusa tells him they need to go brush their teeth.

“Way to ruin the mood, Omi.”

“I tolerated your morning breath because it’s you, but I’m at my limit, Atsumu.”)


End file.
